Sing You to Sleep
by Gwen Harkness
Summary: Five years after graduation, Rachel is trapped in an abusive marriage with Finn; tied down by her own fear and their baby boy. But when Puck returns to Ohio with his cheeky smile and easy charm, Rachel can't resist and finds solace in an old friend. Puckleberry. Set five years after they graduated. Please R&R x


_A/N: Hiya everyone :) I've had the idea for this story in my mind for a very long time, in fact, since I first saw the episode Yes/No. But I've never quite managed to write more than the first 500 words. But I've finally finished the first chapter! It's my very first Glee fic and I'm pretty proud of it. It's kind of like my baby, so please review. I really hope you like it!_

_This is set about five years after the final episode of season 3. It's set in an AU, where Rachel and Finn did get married Rachel didn't get into NYADA. The rest of the backstory is within. Rated T for now, for bad language, violence and upsetting themes._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Glee._

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"_I just feel like all my life I've been, y'know, wondering if I'm gonna be as much of a man as my father was. Now, all of a sudden, I'm up at night worried that I'm gonna become the man who he was." _**– Finn Hudson, Yes/No.**

XXX

Rachel's tired body had barely touched the soft leather of the sofa when the wailing began. It was just a whimper at first, but in mere seconds it intensified, filling the whole house. Rachel felt unwanted tears of frustration pool in her brown eyes and she blinked them back furiously.

"Shh, shh, shh," Rachel soothed, quickly making her way to the nursery and scooping the baby into her arms.

Gradually, the screaming began to quieten and Rachel felt her whole body relax. "Good boy, Christopher. Just shush for Mommy, good boy."

She adjusted the one year old in her arms, resting him on her far too skinny hip. She tried not to flinch as his chubby little leg accidentally connected with the purple bruises that dappled her skin.

Rachel took a seat, sitting the child up on her lap to take some of the strain off her weary body. She'd spent the whole morning cleaning the house, top to bottom. It had to be perfect for Finn, any mistakes and he'd be sure to find it, and he'd be mad. Alongside caring for a barely one year old baby, the effort that she had to put in to make sure the small two-bedroomed house sparkled from top to bottom every day, quickly took a toll on her already exhausted and battered body. She hardly slept at night, and in the day there was always things she had to be doing. The evenings were the worst as she nervously awaited Finn's return and tried hopelessly, when he did finally arrive, to placate him. The exhaustion crippled her, she was always tired and Christopher's crying took away possibly the only minute she would have to herself in the whole day. Her whole body ached and she had to sit at a certain angle on the worn, old sofa in order that her bruises didn't press against the material.

The little boy wriggled in her arms, cooing softly. Rachel spotted an unopened packet of cookies lying on the side. In an attempt to distract Christopher from his previous bout of tears, she tore open the plastic and handed one to him which he took with both hands and began gnawing ineffectually at. Rachel exhaled, exhausted, allowing her head to flop back against the material of the sofa. Her eyes closed briefly as she took a few deep, soothing breaths and mentally ran through what she had left to do before Finn came home. It was half past five in the afternoon. Finn would be in at eight.

With this in mind, Rachel flicked her eyelids open in a desperate attempt to stay awake. She glanced at her son with a sigh. To say he'd eaten the cookie wouldn't be exactly true. He'd more chewed it up before smearing the sticky crumbs into his face and hands. Rachel took a deep breath, realising she'd have to clean the sofa now too. She exhaled slowly. He was only little, it wasn't his fault.

"Who's a messy boy?" she asked him affectionately, pasting bright smile on her face. "So messy! It must be bath-time for my messy boy!"

Christopher squealed in delight, recognising the familiar 'bath-time' phrase, waving his sticky hands and showering cookie crumbs across the sitting room floor. Rachel just laughed and shook her head, pulling him into her arms and standing up. She made her way into the bathroom and began to fill up their small tub with warm water, squirting some bubble bath under the running water to entertain Christopher.

"Bubu!" he cried as they begun to form on the surface of the water. Rachel laughed, scooping some out of the tub and placing it on the end of his nose.

"Have you got bubbles on your nose, Christopher?" Rachel asked the infant playfully. He chortled with delight, using his hand to take them off. The child clapped his palms together vigorously, causing the bubbles to splash off, landing on the floor in little globules. The bath was almost full now and she dipped her hand in, wiggling her fingers to check the temperature. Then she switched off the running water and took off Christopher's messy clothes.

"Time for your bath now," she smiled, picking him up and sitting him in the water. He squealed as it touched his pink skin, lapping over his body. He began hitting the water gently, playing with it. After a moment or two he paused and looked at Rachel, big brown eyes gazing up at her.

"Du!" he demanded in a high-pitched voice.

"You want your duck?" she asked, holding up the yellow bath toy. Christopher stretched out his chubby little arms to grab it.

"Du! Du!" he cried.

"Here's ducky," Rachel placed the toy in his hands, which he immediately began playing with, pulling it back and forth along the surface of the water, creating ripples. While he was distracted with the bright yellow animal, Rachel squeezed some shampoo into her hand and rubbed it together, creating a lather, before beginning to massage it into her son's soft, downy, short hair. She then picked up a cup, scooped some water into it from the bath and poured it over his hair to wash away the shampoo, keeping a gentle but firm hand on the back of his head so he couldn't move and get shampoo in his eyes. She wasn't sure she could deal with the tears that would induce. She then washed his body thoroughly, getting rid of all the sticky biscuit. By this point, Christopher had abandoned the duck and was 'helping', albeit ineffectually.

"All clean!" Rachel announced and Christopher repeated the phrase back to her through a series of sounds that vaguely resembled what she'd just said. She picked up a big, fluffy, white towel and used it to lift the little boy out of the bath, swaddling him in it and sitting him on her lap to dry him off. He giggled and wriggled in the towel.

"Are you trying to escape?" she teased. "You have to be all dry first before I let you go!" She began to rub him down vigorously and he laughed, wriggling some more. "Are you trying to escape?" she asked again. He was mostly dry now and she let the towel drop from around him before tickling her son. He started screaming and kicking excitedly, before Rachel scooped him back up and carried him through to the nursery, hanging the towel up on the rail as she passed. She made a mental note to come back and fold it before Finn got in.

"Which pyjamas are you going to wear tonight?" she asked him. "Do you want the ones with dogs or spaceships?" she asked, holding each out to him in turn.

He pointed at the red ones with dogs on them. "Doo!"

"The dogs? And what dogs do, Christopher?" she asked him, pointing at the picture again as she slipped on a clean diaper for him.

"Oof! Oof!" Christopher shouted, imitating a bark.

"That's it," Rachel smiled. "Woof, woof!" She pulled the pants of his pyjamas onto him.

"Oof! Oof!" Christopher said again, enjoying himself.

"Arms up," she said, lifting his arms up to slip the top over his head. Then she sat down on the chair by his cot, holding him in her arms. For once, he just sat still, happy to be in the warm arms of his mother. She held him close, dropping a gentle kiss onto his still slightly damp hair. "I love you so much, sweetheart. I love you more than anyone in the world," she told him, her bouncy, happy exterior replaced with an honest sweetness.

After a minute or two, she set him down on the floor, giving him big book, just with pictures and textured material on each page that you could touch. She wanted to keep him quiet before he wound down for bed. If he got over excited, he'd be terrible to get to sleep.

"I'm just going to heat up your bottle. Just stay here and Mommy will be back real soon," she told him. "Stay," she repeated, for clarification. He seemed to understand, as when she turned her back he didn't move.

In the kitchen, Rachel mixed together the formula for his bottle and heated it in the microwave. The long beep indicated it was done, and she checked it with her finger to make certain it was the right temperature, before screwing the lid back on. Back in the nursery, she lifted Christopher onto her lap, where he held the bottle himself, drinking from it.

"Bedtime now, sweetheart," she told him gently, lifting him up and setting him in the crib. Rachel watched him with utter relief when he didn't scream. He was a good boy, but some evenings he just got overtired and he wouldn't sleep. Rachel would spend the whole night up and down to him, trying to get him to stop screaming. And Finn always got particularly mad if Christopher wasn't quiet. It was a nightmare.

She bent over the little boy, tucking him in as she quickly rifled through a selection of songs in her mind before selecting one. Dimming the lights, she stood over his crib, running a hand through the sleepy boy's hair.

Singing to Christopher before bed was one of the few occasions she sung anymore. Finn had no interest in music, and certainly no interest in singing with her anymore, like they used to in high school. He said the sound of her voice made his head hurt; Rachel decided not to mention that was probably the whiskey, actually.

"_I know I can't take one more step towards you. Cause all that's waiting is regret,"_ Rachel's lovely voice began gently, filling the small space between she and her son. _"And don't you know I'm not your ghost anymore. You lost the love I loved the most."_

She still remembered singing this song in high school at prom. She had been so upset, watching Finn with Quinn. Maybe things would've turned out differently if he'd never split up with Quinn, if he'd stayed with her and was married to her now. Maybe it was Rachel? Maybe he'd have been happier if he had ended up with someone else? Maybe he wouldn't be this damaged?

"_I learned to live half alive. And now you want me one more time. And who do you think you are? Running 'round leaving scars."_

If he'd never gone to war, he would've never ended up so broken. Rachel had let him go, encouraged him, even. Quinn wouldn't. She would've wanted him to stay and be a strong family man. Quinn was the type that told men what to do, not the other way round. She was strong. Rachel used to think she was strong. But she let Finn push her around and treat her however he wanted.

_"Collecting your jar of hearts, and tearing love apart. You're gonna catch a cold, from the ice inside your soul."_

This was all her fault. The way things turned out was down to her. There was no one else to lay the blame at the feet of. Things were going to turn out so well for them, that's what she thought, as Rachel made her wedding vows to Finn. And maybe she didn't get into NYADA, but she told herself that was how it was meant to be. That not getting in there was a sign that Finn and her were always meant to be together.

"_So don't come back for me. Who do you think you are? I hear you're asking all around, if I am anywhere to be found."_

They'd moved into their own little house after graduation. It wasn't the perfect white picketed cottage with a yard and lovely neighbours, but it was theirs. Then Finn joined up to the army. They let him do some of his training in Ohio. He finally felt like he was doing his part and making people proud; like he was doing something worthwhile with his life, at last. Rachel got a job teaching music to kindergarten children. Though it wasn't what she wanted, she found the fun in telling little children to follow their dreams and that they could be stars. And, for a time, it was perfect.

"_But I have grown too strong to ever fall back in your arms_. And I've learned to live half alive, and now you want me one more time."

But then, he was posted to Iraq. Finn promised Rachel that he'd have plenty of time off and that he'd come back to see her all the time. But, in the times he wasn't there, Rachel was desperately lonely. She missed him all the time. But it made the time they did spend together all the more important. Being away from her only made Finn more sweet when he came home. He'd take her out and it would be perfect. He'd talk about his life, and she'd talk about hers. They treasured what they did have, and not a moment went to waste.

"_And who do you think you are? Running 'round leaving scars. Collecting your jar of hearts, and tearing love apart."_

A year after he'd been posted to Iraq, just a month after one of Finn's visits home, Rachel rang him in floods of tears. She was pregnant. She was having a baby. And he wasn't there. What were they going to do? She couldn't do this alone. Finn took some leave early and flew back to see her. Rachel begged him to quit the army but he told her he was so close to having his father's discharge changed to an honourable one. He was so close to finally making his father proud. He promised her he'd come home, as soon as he'd achieved what he'd set out to do. Tearfully, Rachel agreed.

"_You're gonna catch a cold, from the ice inside your soul. So don't come back for me. Who do you think you are?"_

Finn came back three weeks before Rachel was due, on unpaid paternity leave from the army. He had a whole nine weeks after the baby was born ahead of him too, and for a time they forgot all about the fact that Finn would have to go back. Rachel gave birth to Christopher two days before she was due. The labour was relatively drama free. They went home two days later to spend time together as a family. Those first few weeks were blissful. They were exhausted, but they were happy. Their friends came back to see them from their various colleges and jobs. They cooed over baby Christopher and told Finn how brave they thought he was. Life seemed perfect. But five weeks into their leave, Finn became edgy. Finally, he revealed to Rachel that their spare cash had almost run dry. Having a baby drained their savings, and with no money coming into the house anymore, they were almost broke. Finn had to cut his leave short, and few back to Iraq.

"_And it took so long just to feel alright. Remember how to put back the light in my eyes. I wish I had missed the first time that we kissed, cause you broke all your promises."_

Those first few weeks, alone in the house with a baby were agonising for Rachel. She was constantly tired. She didn't know what to do. And now she no longer had Finn's support. She felt as if she were dissolving. The world was crumbling around Rachel, and she was terrified.

"_And who do you think you are?" _

Then, three months after Christopher was born, Finn came home. But something had changed. He hardly said a word the whole visit. He had this constant haunted look in his eyes. He'd come to bed late in the evening, and wake her up screaming in the middle of the night, cold sweat pouring off his skin. He refused to tell Rachel what was wrong. And, even though, physically, they were closer together than they had been for the last three months, mentally, she felt further from her husband than she'd ever been.

"_Who do you think you are?"_

Just a month later, Rachel received a call from army officials. At first, she'd screamed. This was the call she'd always been dreading. The one when she discovered that Finn had been killed, defending the country and, most of all, defending his father's name. But it wasn't that call. They were sending Finn home. He'd been diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder and they deemed him unfit to fight anymore. He was given an honourable discharge, and his father was too. Finn had achieved what he had set out to do. But in doing so, he had destroyed himself.

_"Who do you think you are?"_

At first, he just sat quietly, as he had done that last time he'd come home to visit. He took a job in an office, doing nothing very much. Rachel felt as empty as he looked. Their relationship was a mess. Finn had hardly touched her since he'd come home, let alone shown her any affection. But Rachel understood. This wasn't his fault. He was ill, and he'd get better. She just took a deep breath and allowed him to recover. To blame him would be wrong. He'd fought for the country, done his part. This wasn't his fault. When he began drinking, she told herself that this was how he was dealing with it, and that she would have the old Finn back soon. But he became violent with her, and angry. There was no way to control him, no way to placate him. She would tip-toe around him; trying anything to stop him becoming angry. And now, bruises dappled her pretty, tanned skin, and tears rolled down her drawn cheeks as the song came to a close.

_"Who do you think you are?"_

"Goodnight, baby," she said softly, pressing a kiss to Christopher's head. She set the baby monitor and shut the door, making sure to leave the lights just dimmed.

She had an hour and a half before Finn was due in. In that time, she was able to cook meatballs with spaghetti in a tomato sauce. She cleaned the bathroom and fixed the towel that she'd used to dry Christopher. Then she washed his clothes, vacuumed the sitting room and cleaned the cookie off the sofa. When Finn arrived home at ten past eight, she had dinner prepared on a tray for him and the house was spotless, as he always checked for.

"How was your day?" she asked, a slight nervous tremble to her voice, fearing he might be in a mood already.

"It was fine," Finn said. "How's Christopher?"

Evidently, he had only had a beer or two in his first sitting at the bar. It was only later that he began on the liquor. Rachel set the tray down on his lap and passed him the remote. He always chose what they watched, no exceptions.

"He's good. I took him to the park today, and he said 'Dada' again," Rachel told him gently.

Finn spun his head to look at Rachel, and for a moment, she froze, cowering back, thinking she'd said something wrong and he was about to strike her. But he smiled. "He did?"

"Yeah," Rachel responded, still recovering from the shock. That was the thing about Finn. He was so damaged. But every so often, she saw flashes of the man he used to be. Which, honestly, only made it harder when he began to drink again… "We were looking at photos of… Us… And he recognised you." Rachel caught herself before she told him that they were high school photos, from Glee Club. He hated it when she mentioned that. It could sometimes provoke him into a full on rage, even when he was still a little sober.

Finn smiled again. "He's a good boy."

"He liked the ducks at the park too. But he was scared of the geese," she told him. As Finn ate, she gave him a quick rundown of everything Christopher said and did today. It was in rare moments like this that she could feel like Finn truly loved the baby they'd made together, and she finally felt connected to him, even if it was only through their child. But all the time she spoke, Rachel kept a watchful eye on Finn's face for the slightest sign that he might be about to turn.

When he finally left for the bar, she breathed a sigh of relief. Not because of what he was going to, but because she no longer felt as though she was under constant pressure to always say the right thing and never to mention something she shouldn't.

She cleared away his dishes and washed them up, before heating up the other portion of spaghetti she'd made and pouring tomato sauce over it, finally eating dinner herself. After cleaning the kitchen completely, Rachel sat down on the sofa, finally allowing herself that moment to herself she had wanted so desperately all evening. She was beyond exhausted and felt as though she may fall asleep at any moment. Christopher was being surprisingly quite tonight, and so she quickly went up to check on him. After putting a hand to his forehead and watching the gentle rise and fall of his little chest, she was able to reassure herself that he was obviously just worn out from the park. She was so nervous something would happen to Christopher. He was everything she had, her whole world. Her life revolved around her baby and making sure he was always safe and happy. She was certain, without Christopher, Finn would've left her. He clearly didn't want her anymore. He only stayed for their son.

Nostalgia still filling Rachel's mind from earlier, she made her way to their bedroom and lifted out a photo album. Carrying the big heavy book back downstairs, she lay back on the sofa and opened it. The first photo was the Glee Club, after their Nationals win. Huge smiles beamed out from the photograph at her, the faces of old friends. It had been nearly five years since they'd graduated and Rachel wondered absentmindedly what they were doing now as she ran a thumb affectionately across each of their faces.

Mike Chang was on the far left, arm looped around Tina. Big smiled adorned their faces as they gazed proudly at each other. Mike had graduated from The Joffrey Ballet Academy of Dance in Chicago and he was now on Broadway, dancing in The Lion King. Tina went on to Julliard in New York. She was in her final year now. About six months after Tina had arrived in New York, she and Mike had reconciled and were now living together in New York, each following their dreams. They'd announced that they were engaged when they'd come back to Ohio to meet Christopher shortly after his birth.

Blaine was kneeling down in front of Mike and Tina, and beside him was Kurt, arms slung over each other's shoulders. Blaine too applied for NYADA, and, of course, got in. He was finishing his final year there now, and he was already lined up for a Broadway role when he graduated. For the first year, Kurt had sort of wandered around Lima, unsure what to do with himself. Rachel saw a lot of him and they always used to meet up for coffee. But Blaine going to New York finally gave Kurt the confidence he needed to follow his dream and they both headed for the big apple. Not long after arriving, Kurt earned himself a job working for Vogue, and he'd been there ever since, rising up the ranks. He still phoned home regularly, telling Rachel how much he loved his job and how much he and Blaine were enjoying New York. Rachel kept promising to come and visit them, but she knew, deep down, that Finn would never allow it.

Stood next to Tina and Mike was Santana and Brittany. Santana was kissing Brittany, who had a slightly dazed, confused look on her face. Santana only completed a year of college in Louisville before she dropped out to head for New York. Here, she became involved in setting up a record label to help fresh talent achieve their dreams. Brittany, meanwhile, followed Santana to New York. She became a YouTube sensation after one of her "Fondue for Two" episodes went viral. This launched her career in broadcasting. Rachel had heard from Kurt that Brittany had been given her own talk show that was launching sometime this year. The media was already buzzing about the show, tipping Brittany to be the next Ellen.

Sam stood the other side of Rachel. He had worked as a personal trainer for a few years in Ohio, saving up. Finally, he had enough money to buy a gym in California, where he's a personal trainer. Rachel hadn't heard as much about him as she had any of the others, as he wasn't in New York with them. And, maybe he hadn't become a big star like the others, but he seemed really happy with what he'd achieved. Rachel still saw Stacey and Stevie around Ohio too. They were both in the Glee Club at McKinley now and every time they saw Rachel they told her that their big brother was doing well. From what Rachel could gather from Stevie's unsubtle hints, there were a lot of wealthy housewives in California who wanted some 'personal training', and it seemed Sam, with his classic, all-American good looks, was never short of company in his bed.

Mercedes' beamed in the photo, looking every inch the star she knew she could be. She never stopped dreaming, and she finally made it. She was one of the first acts signed by Santana's record label, and the act that made her label so successful. Mercedes had been as much a part of building that label as Santana had. Rachel often heard Mercedes' songs on the radio, and it made her smile every single time. It just proved that people could always achieve their dream, if they worked hard enough for it.

Sugar sat on Artie's lap, in the front of the photograph. Sugar's father and uncle both died in a freak fishing accident, leaving Sugar an absolute fortune between the two of them. Sugar married Artie, where he became a kept man in Beverly Hills. They were both on some kind of reality show, following the idle rich. Because of their poor financial situation, Rachel couldn't afford the network the show aired on, but she'd bought the first season box set. Although the show had been complete crap, designed for teenagers and stay at home moms, she'd loved watching her friends. It made her feel as if not everyone had left her completely.

Joe had his arms thrown up in the air, thanking everything holy that they had won. Rachel had only heard from Joe once since graduation, when he too came back to meet Christopher. He had set up a camp for troubled teens somewhere in the Deep South, where they practised clean living and bible study all day. His camp didn't have a phone, which was why Rachel never heard from him. He'd offered to take Christopher in, if he ever became a 'troubled youth'. As much as Rachel cared for Joe and admired what he was doing, she very much hoped that would never happen.

Rory grinned next to Mercedes, that Irish charm still sparkling out of the photo, even now. He'd gone back to Ireland, where he'd completed high school. While in his final year, he'd won X-Factor UK. Though he rarely came to America anymore, he was a huge star in the UK. Rachel had looked him up on Youtube, before Verizon had cut their internet connection because they couldn't afford it. He still looked and acted like the same old Rory Rachel had known in high school. She still promised Christopher they'd go to the UK and see him perform, but she knew it was never going to happen.

Quinn stood at the very edge, close to Puck. After Rachel had Christopher, she and Quinn became quite close. She came back at least every month to visit, and they spoke on the phone most weeks. Quinn and Puck had got back together in her third year at Yale. When she graduated they got a place together. They were going to get married. Quinn had become a lawyer and they'd been so happy. But six months after Christopher was born, something happened. Whenever they spoke, Rachel began to think something sounded wrong with the blonde. Quinn stopped visiting first, and then she stopped calling. She seemed to be disintegrating. Puck told Rachel gently that Quinn had been admitted to hospital, after having a breakdown. Not long after that, she and Puck had split up. After that, Rachel heard nothing more about Puck. It was like he'd vanished off the face of the earth. In more recent days, Rachel had been told by others that Quinn was doing much better. She'd got out of hospital and taken a part time job at a small firm that helped people with the legalities of moving house. It wasn't the big sensationalist cases Quinn had imagined herself being involved with, but she was happy, she said. But she and Rachel were never really friends again, not like they were before Quinn's breakdown. Every time Rachel rang, there was always somewhere else Quinn had to be, or some reason why she couldn't talk just now.

And there, in the middle, arms wrapped around each other, trophy held proudly in the air, were Rachel and Finn. They looked so happy, so young, and so full of life. Her ring sparkled on her finger and the smile in her eyes sparkled even brighter. It seems everyone in that photo got some semblance of their happy ending. They all though Rachel had got hers too…

Exhausted, Rachel shut her eyes for just a second. The faces of all her friends spun through her memory as she tried to picture them now. She wondered exactly what they were doing right now, especially Puck. He was the one member that Rachel didn't know what had happened to. She really hoped he was happy. He deserved that much…

XXX

Rachel awoke with a start at the sound of the front door slamming. She leapt to her feet in complete panic, her heart thundering so hard in her chest that she thought it might burst right out of her. She pushed the photo album under the sofa, desperately attempting to hide it from Finn. She heard Christopher begin to wail softly at the disturbance as Finn stormed into the room, face bright red and thunderous.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" he shouted at her, words slurred.

"I-" but he cut her off before she could finish.

"Don't just start there you stupid bitch! Go and shut that fucking kid up!" he roared.

"I- I- I'm just…" she ran off upstairs towards the nursery, but just as she was stood over the crib, about to lift her son into her arms, froze at the sound of Finn's voice, booming through the house again.

"Get back down here you little whore!"

Rachel looked round in panic and back at her little boy helplessly.

"NOW!"

There was nothing she could do. Not doing as Finn said would make him even angrier. She would have to go to her son later. She rushed back down the stairs. Finn was stood right at the bottom and when he saw her he grabbed her wrist with a vice-like grip, leaving little red marks in her skin that she knew would bruise tomorrow. He yanked her down the last few stairs so she stumbled and tripped, landing sprawled at the bottom of them with nasty grazes on her shins.

Finn didn't bend down to see if she was okay, or help her up. He just shouted. "Get up you useless little bitch!"

Upstairs, Rachel could hear Christopher's cries escalating into a full on wail of grief. She stumbled to her feet and looked at Finn. With terror, she realised what he was holding. She had managed to force the album quickly out of sight under the sofa, but in her hurry a photo from further back of Puck with his arms wrapped round Rachel while they sung slipped out and fluttered to the floor before the sofa. Rachel hadn't noticed at the time, but now Finn clutched the picture in his hands, shaking with alcohol, the photo was more brutally obvious than it had ever been.

"What the hell do you call this?!" Finn shouted. He paused as Rachel searched desperately for an answer, but came up with none. "Well?!"

"I… I was just looking at some pictures and… And I was… I was wondering how our friends-"

"You stupid bitch!" he slapped her across the cheek. It stung and she felt her cheek smart with the pain.

"I'm sorry!" she begged, knowing what was coming next. "Please, I'm sorry! It was a mistake!"

"You're damn well right it was a mistake!" his face reddened and Rachel cowered back, protecting her face as he landed a blow to her stomach. She doubled over, crying out involuntarily in pain.

"Please," she begged him, tears falling down her face.

"Stop crying you fucking cunt!" he shouted at her callously. "Where are the rest of the photos?! Tell me!"

"They're… They're under the sofa… Please, Finn, please," she begged him as he went to the sofa and pulled out the album wedged under it, ripping the cover off with the force he'd used to pull it out. He grabbed the cover, the album and the errant photo of Rachel and Puck before hurling them all into the fireplace. He then flicked his lighter, creating a little flame and lit the paper. It took immediately and begun burning through it.

"No! Finn, don't!" Rachel cried out, straightening her body to try and stop him. That album contained all her best high school memories. Winning Prom Queen, competing in various Sectionals, Regionals and finally Nationals, their wedding; and Finn was just going to destroy them without a second thought. She grabbed his arm weakly with her hands, but at the shock he forcefully pushed her off, sending her thin, bruised body flying. She crumpled against the sofa.

"I can do whatever the hell I fucking like you stupid little whore!" he shouted at her. He began to kick her against the sofa, rage coursing irrationally through his body, amplified by alcohol. Rachel began sobbing as his foot met old bruises, causing her brutal agony. She simply lay still for what felt like hours, when in reality it couldn't have been more than thirty seconds, waiting for the beating to stop. When he was finally finished, he stood back, not even giving her a second glance.

"I'm going to bed. Sort that fucking baby out!" Finn demanded angrily, stomping off up the stairs. Rachel quickly made her way to the nursery and scooped Christopher up. He was bright red and screaming his little lungs out. He had got himself into such a state.

"There, there," Rachel consoled the child. "Shh now. Mommy's here. Good boy, good boy, sweetheart. It's alright, it's okay," she carried him downstairs in her arms, rubbing his back gently in the hope that it would curtail his cries.

Rachel sat down cross-legged in front of the fire. She slipped her top up to breastfeed the little boy, praying that might distract him. At thirteen months, he was mostly on mashed foods, little chopped up pieces of things that he could clutch in his hands and formula. But very occasionally, if he became inconsolable, she would breastfeed him instead. Christopher snuggled against her chest, finally allowing his wails to turn into little sobs as he suckled. The feeling of her baby's warm skin against hers made Rachel feel a little safer; she understood what she was doing all this for.

Rachel gazed into the fire as she supported the baby's weight in her arms. She watched as the album burn, all her memories going up in smoke. She felt bitter tears slip silently down her cheeks as she realised, as easy as it was at the time to make good memories, it was even easier to destroy them. And once they were gone, all that was left was a pile of ashes where they used to be.

* * *

_A/N: I know it's pretty long, so I'm impressed if you've read all this. This would sort of work as a one-shot, but I'd like to make it multi-chaptered and of course, have our favourite Mohawked bad boy coming back into the picture. But I'd really like people to review to let me know what they thought and where they'd like this story to go. I'd really love it if I could get ten reviews? That way I can be sure people like it and want to read on.  
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